


Debt Of A Wendigo

by SilverFliesInBlueSugar



Series: Alastor The Fluffy Deer Demon [7]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22332424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFliesInBlueSugar/pseuds/SilverFliesInBlueSugar
Summary: Alastor hates to 'owe' anyone.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Alastor The Fluffy Deer Demon [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566262
Comments: 14
Kudos: 300





	Debt Of A Wendigo

**Author's Note:**

> The RadioDust Discord - https://discord.gg/aj8HGvb

"Angelo, can you sit fucking STILL?!" Arackniss snapped from where he was sat on the arm of the sofa, glaring derisively down at his younger brother as he polished the barrel of his luger, digging to remove all of the remnants of dirt and blood. "Jesus christ, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Angelo huffed, crossing his arms and looking away with a slight pout. "I'm just restless s'all. Ain't i allowed to be bored?"

"If you're bored, then go do something with yourself instead've just shuffling on the spot" the elder of the two pointed out, still looking rather obviously annoyed, but able to push it down to something more neutral. Evidently, he was too tired to keep up any kind of long-running argument. "...Actually, i know what you can do" he eventually continued, looking like he was pondering something. Angelo looked up at him from under his fringe in curiosity.

"What?"

"Y'know Leo? You still owe him a coupla bucks, don't you? An' I'm willing to reckon that you don't actually got his money, right?"

"Maybe. What's it to you?" Angelo narrowed his eyes.

"He's one o' those pikers who's got a thing for mountin' animal heads but ain't got enough shit to actually hunt anything. I bet if you went out and brought him back something to mount he might forget about your little debt" Arackniss offered, setting his gun down to roll a cigarette as he spoke. The dyed-blond watched as he took a long, self-suffering drag before looking imperiously down at his brother. "Well? You up for that?"

"Of course, I'm thrilled to go shiv up a fuckin' deer" Angelo scoffed, but regardless stood up with a stretch. "Whateva. I may as well, it might actually make me feel _mildly_ less like I'm abouta fall through this sofa"

"Dramatic, dramatic" Arackniss tutted, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray. "Try not to get too much blood on ya"

"Yeah yeah, i get that" the young mobster scowled, picking up his rifle. "I'm not screwy. Time to go bump off some of the wild population, then. See you about, ya misery"

"Off with you, then" Arackniss made a dismissive motion. "At least finish up before pop gets back"

The blond didn't grace that with a response, slamming the front door behind him.

Well, with a great old rifle in his damn hands, he would have to avoid the main streets. That could only garner negative attention, irregardless of his actual intent. Not to mention that you tended to need a permit of some sort to hunt, and frankly he couldn't be arsed to get one.

It took a while, but he managed to find a stretch of outer road rimming some woodland. He squinted at the slightly darkened expanse of tree and grass, before shrugging and stepping in, taking one last glance backward at the empty road, and pausing.

He hadn't noticed it before, but there was blood on the road. Not enough to indicate that anyone had been killed here, but a smear that spread from the middle of the stretch to the end, leading into the woods slightly. Now that he looked carefully, some of the ground was spattered with the same red.

Evidently, something had been hit by a car. And if he had any luck, it hadn't gotten far.

He stepped carefully, wary of the undergrowth, leaves crunching beneath his feet as he stepped, bringing his hand up to narrow his vision.

And then, he heard it.

A small sound. A keening sort of noise, the type one might make before it drew it's last breath.

Bingo.

He crept through, readying his shotgun. He didn't much relish killing animals, but in this case he rather needed to. He just hoped that it was a deer and not something much harder to multilate.

Ughhh. He just realized that he would have to carry a fucking animal head back through the streets. He really hadn't thought this through. Fuck him.

His shoes stuck slightly on the pools of blood in the leaves and dirt, making a disgusting subtle squelching with each withdraw of his feet and every new connection. He wanted to retch. Not that he wasn't used to blood or getting it on himself, but the sticky feeling was very unwelcomed.

And then, in a small clearing just ahead of him, he saw it.

It was laid down apon it's side, head lolling slightly against a rock, the rest of it half submerged by leaves. There was evident damage where the car must have made impact with its body, and it was writhing slightly, making quiet whimpers, eyes wide as it thrashed.

Angelo cocked his gun, and suddenly it froze, noise stopping, going still as it's ears shot up and it stared directly at him.

He hesitated, frowning. "Can't be that bad of damage if you can just ignore it that easy to stare at me. Well, regardless, this should only be one shot" he readied himself to finish it off.

And hesitated.

There was something about it, something in the way it looked at him. It was too _intelligent_ , tracking his movement with it's gaze, minimizing it's own pain, staring at him like calculating it's own prey.

His finger lingered over the trigger.

"...You're something weird, i can tell already" he mused, smirking. "Though you still got hit by a fucking car. So i can't say that you're THAT unique of a deer. All stupid, in the end"

The deer growled at him, like it understood him. Like it knew that he was insulting it. His finger deliberated more. His eyes were narrow.

"...Can you understand me?" he felt so stupid talking to a deer. But curiosity overrid him.

It stared at him for a moment before making a subtle incline of it's head.

He inhaled sharply, expression becoming bewildered.

What the hell?

\---

Alastor had had possibly the worst day of his life.

Sure, some past experiences rivalled it in difficulty, or irritation. But the combination of the fact that everything that could have gone wrong WENT WRONG, and his general sickness that seemed to have come from nowhere except maybe the depths of Hell, he found himself short on patience.

He had efficiently disposed of his latest victim after taking out all of her... Preferred sections, almost salivating as he held her heart like a particularly beautiful piece of jewelry. He had dragged her deep into the woods, digging her a shallow grave before dropping her body in without a care, just like all of the rest since he had moved ingo New York just 3 years ago. His smile never dropped, never even twitched, for the entire duration of this procedure.

And then he had concentrated, focused on his change. Felt the air shift around him. Felt his disguise, his method, cloak him.

Where a man had once stood, with soft brown hair and dark red eyes, was a small white-tail deer.

He may never know why he could do such a thing. He had been born with it, at least as far as he was aware or could recall, and it was a great help in escaping consequences for his multiple crimes. Who on earth would suspect a deer at a crime scene, after all? Not any detective or policeman that wouldn't relish being mocked until their death for such a posit.

Deer were also a great deal faster than humans. 

Of course, part of this grated on him; it truly was an irony to razz. Him, a hunter, a predator, a refined killer. Him, with another identity that was the embodiment of the word 'prey'.

But he couldn't linger on such trivial annoyances. 

Such as he had been distracted by his own thoughts, he hadn't noticed the gleam of headlight and the bark of a horn until it was too late, and in further irony of his form, he found his body barreled aside by an oncoming car, sent flying to the side of the road.

The pain was instant. So was the terror.

He was rather far from his home, and there was no way he could seek medical help soon enough. Transforming back in this state may kill him.

Gods. He could be truly idiotic sometimes.

With hate and agony, he found himself seeking back into the woods, further and further, past the body of the woman he had killed and put in her pitiful grave, past other graves he had prior dug, past metres of trees. Blood dripped down in heady, viscous puddles beneath him, and he barely spared them a glance.

Eventually, he collapsed, and had almost been resigned to his pathetic fate when he had heard something.

A gun being loaded.

He had frozen up, disregarding his pressing pain to stare up at the man before him. He had sharp grey eyes in a rather femininely structured face, with pink lips and a narrow chin. He had some faint makeup applied, with running eyeliner that Alastor honestly couldn't tell if it was intentional to look such a way or not, with a light pink trillby hat and a similarly hued pinstripe suit with a maroon tie and half-palm gloves, covering hands holding that long, gleaming gun aimed directly at him.

So this was how he would die. At another's hand for sport. How pathetic. Rage filled his body, boiling just beneath his skin. He mustered as much hate into his gaze as he could, even through the apathetic eyes of a frail deer. He even allowed himself to growl, as animalistic and dehumanizing as it was. It was gratifying.

But then the human was speaking to him. Mocking him, but still speaking to him, curious and wondering. And then the man asked him if he understood his words. And he had nodded, without thinking.

The look of shock in response to that had been rather delicious, if he might say so himself.

And then the man was backing up, lowering his gun before dropping it to the floor, and Alastor watched with bewilderment as he tore at his shirt from beneath his suit, moving forward to tourniquet it over the deer's wounds.

Alastor watched him work with utter bemusement as the man seemingly _treated_ him, pulling the material taut before leaning back, wiping his brow.

"Whatever you are" the man said, and Alastor's ears perked up "I reckon you'll be better off alive than dead. Only this once. If i come across ya again, you're becoming a mount or dish of venision. Sorry not sorry"

Alastor grimaced and tried to bite the man, who just snorted and moved backward.

"My name is Angelo, by the way. Angelo Ragno. But you can just call me Angel" Angelo smirked, fiddling with the knife in his pocket. "If you're able to, go ahead and remember that name. Because if you ain't just any deer, or not a deer at all-" he leant down, grinning. "-I'm expecting some repayment for this"

Alastor growled, though it was more subdued than it could have been. Strangely enough, he felt something he had never felt before. Intimidation. 

Angelo held his gaze for a small while longer before bursting out into disbelieving laughter and stepping back. "Can't beleive I'm saying this shit to an animal. Whatever." he flapped his hand dismissively. "I'm off to go behead some other dumber animal. One that isn't half dead would be a more fun challenge anyway." he gave the transformed brunette a sardonic wave before picking up his hunting rifle and leaving. "T'rah"

Alastor stared after him long after he had left before allowing himself to transform back into a human. Surprisingly, the tourniquet held tight, strong around his midriff.

"What a strange individual. Angelo Ragno. Angel."

With a huff, he made his way up into a standing position, and began his trek back to the road. Time to get back home and see if the wound was still salveagable before infection. And to get all of this fucking blood off of him.

\---

"...Angelo, you've been gone 5 hours. There's no way you took that long to hunt and chop up a deer" Arackniss greeted him back, watching his brother drop a deer's head onto the table, grimacing at the repulsive sound it made apon impact. "Fuck. That's so gross."

"It sure is" Angelo chortled. "Trust me, doing the actual slicing was worse. When's Leo next comin' around?"

"Tuesday, i believe? And you didn't answer my first statement"

"Don't reckon I heard a question mark, so i don't gotta" Angelo snarked, sashaying his way to the stairs leading to the upper floor. "Now i need a nice long damn bath. Have fun staring at that decapitated deer~"

"Eugh, i would rather not in all honestly" Arackniss responded flatly, standing up to follow his brother. "I'll be in my room"

"How kind of you to follow me~"

"You are utterly insufferable. I'm just glad i managed to get you to fuck off our of the house for a few hours. Did it stave your boredom?"

Angelo thought of the deer. "...Yeah. Reckon it just might've."


End file.
